


Into That Darkness

by Ywain Penbrydd (penbrydd)



Series: A Comedy of Assholes (Rhapsody, etc.) [11]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Betrayal, Darkspawn, Deep Roads, Dwarven Politics, Dysfunctional Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2018-10-09 21:09:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10421808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penbrydd/pseuds/Ywain%20Penbrydd
Summary: Sereda Aeducan undertakes her first commission as a warleader, amid speculation that she and not her older brother may become the next king of Orzammar. But, once she is betrayed by her own family, banished to the Deep Roads, to die at the hands of the darkspawn horde, there seems to be no way to reclaim that legacy. But, not everything ends as it begins...





	1. Chapter 1

The troops stood arrayed outside the heavy doors of Orzammar, arranged behind the three they would follow, with one more company, the king's troops, standing headless, to the side. The Deep Roads were wide, this close to the gate, and staring up at them, one could easily imagine the empire that must have been required to carve a tunnel this wide, this high, this ornate. Memorials and monuments lay in ruin, further down into the dark path, but this close to the door, it was still majestic, the great doors of Orzammar gleaming in the light, tens of dwarves arrayed to take their orders.

"You sure you're up for this, big sister?" Bhelen whispered loudly, leaning away from his own troops to be heard.

Sereda smiled grimly back at her little brother. Dear Bhelen, always so adept at pointing out the problems under a veneer of concern and good humour. She'd found him a great deal more likeable than their older brother from the moment she'd met him, as a squalling infant. If nothing else, at least Bhelen was _funny_. "Does it matter, Bhelen? I'll come back alive or you'll have my troops, next time out."

"Are you kidding me?" Bhelen snorted, armour clanking as he shifted his weight to his other foot. "If you die, he's giving your men to Trian."

"Well, I guess I'd better come back alive then!" Sereda laughed, glancing up toward the doors, where their father, King Endrin, was still discussing the details of the raid with Lord Harrowmont. She knew they'd be pushing into the eastern tunnels to take back the thaigs along the path to one of the greatest lyrium mines Orzammar had ever known, but how far they would get, today, or what the precise objective was, she would find out right along with everyone else.

"No, you'd better come back alive, because he's going to name you his heir. You'll be king, Sereda." Bhelen's voice was quiet and urgent. "And Trian knows it. He's going to try to move against you."

" _Trian_? Are you addled?" Sereda shot her younger brother a sharp look. "What would make you think that?"

"I overheard him giving orders to some of his men, and I was shocked. Then it began to make sense. Trian's decided you're a threat to his taking the throne. He's probably right." Bhelen shook his head, sadly. "Look at it from his perspective. You're more personable than he's ever been. You entered the Provings held in your own honour just for glory and to please the crowds. If you win glory against the darkspawn, it will only strengthen the case for you as the next heir. Trian fears Father will replace him on the spot. If not, the Assembly will surely turn against him when Father dies. You know his pride will never allow him to step aside."

"Then let him come," Sereda growled. "I'll knock him right back to the nursery. I'm of no mind to be king, but if he can't handle himself, I'll have to do it for him."

"You're my elder. I'll respect any decision you make, but please be careful. I don't want to lose the sibling I actually like." Bhelen looked unconvinced. "But, he's going to try to pull something, down here. You should make sure you get to him, first."

"I won't need to. He could come upon me in the bath, and I'd still come out ahead. He blows hot as a forge-furnace, but there's no steel in him." Sereda shook her head. "Here comes Father, with the last instructions."

King Endrin stepped to the edge of the stairs, Lord Harrowmont close to his side. "The second of my children joins us today, in her first commission as war-leader, and I trust that her troops will accept her word as they would take my own. The Ancestors, themselves, have favoured her, as yesterday's Proving showed. Today, we push deeper into the east, to open more of the path to a great and ancient lyrium mine, lost, centuries ago, to the darkspawn. It is my wish that the Ancestors bring us glory and aid us in retaking their lost territories. We have pushed as far north as Kal-Sharok! Let nothing to the east stop us now!"

The troops cheered, and Lord Harrowmont stepped forward to address them. "Trian and his men will clear the way to the east, joining up with the Legion coming north to meet us. Those caverns are still infested by the worst of the darkspawn. We cannot risk our own troops in there, but this is what the Legion of the Dead were formed to do."

"May the Paragons favour you, and the Stone catch you if you fall," Endrin intoned.

"Come, men! Glory awaits!" Trian cried, stepping down to lead his men to where they would set off.

"Bhelen, you and your men will second the King, clearing the main road," Harrowmont went on, leaving Bhelen and Sereda to look curiously at each other.

Bhelen raised a hand to gesture to Sereda. "Aren't you forgetting --" he began, but Endrin cut him off.

"Take your men and make ready, Bhelen. Harrowmont and I need to have words with your sibling."

"Good luck, my sister." With another distrustful glance, Bhelen led his men to where his father's men waited.

Once Bhelen and his men had moved away, Lord Harrowmont waved Sereda closer, so he wouldn't need to raise his voice. "Your father has a special mission for you."

"In the eastern Deep Roads, there is a secret door carved into the stone," Endrin began, Harrowmont picking up as he paused for breath.

"The door leads to a thaig abandoned long ago, by your ancestors. The darkspawn have made it impossible to reach."

With a proud smile, Endrin continued. "My father believed the shield of the Paragon Aeducan remains in that thaig, under the stones of the central room. Reclaim the shield and glory will be yours!"

"The shield of Aeducan, himself?" Sereda blinked at her elders. "You're quite serious?"

"I am not a man of easy jest. I don't know where your younger brother gets it," Endrin sighed. "But, my father's writings speak only of the shield. There may be countless other treasures, but only the shield matters."

Harrowmont cut in to explain the details. "We've sent two scouts ahead, to make sure the tunnels are cleared, but be careful. One of the scouts will be at the first crossroads you come to. The second will be further in. When you get to the door, use your signet ring to open it. The crossroads where you meet the first scout will be the rendezvous point. There you can present the shield to the lords and demonstrate the strength of Aeducan."

"May the ancestors watch over you, my child." Endrin dismissed her.

Sereda turned to her troops. "Men! I need half of you to support my brother Bhelen and our father, the King! The rest of you will follow Trian and act as support to the Legion!"

"Support the Legion?" One of the soldiers asked. "Not your brother?"

"It's the same fight in the end, but I think my brother will have more men behind him than there will be Legionnaires left by the rendezvous, and the Legion are the very best against the darkspawn. I want you to take this opportunity to learn from them, so that we can bring their wisdom and power back to Orzammar for the glory of us all!"

"But, where will you be?" another soldier asked, speaking for all of them, to judge by the nodding in the crowd.

"My father, the King, has set me a special task -- I will be taking Gorim with me -- so that I may bring extra glory to all of us! To my troops and to my family!" Sereda smiled boldly, one hand resting on the sword at her hip. "So, I must ask you all to have faith in me and to ask the ancestors to watch over me, so I may bring this glory home to you."

It was a bit unusual, but some of the older soldiers could remember that Trian's first commission had been a little strange, too. After a moment of muttering, a cheer ran through the crowd, and they parted as Sereda had directed.

"Half to keep an eye on each brother," she muttered to Gorim, as the troops descended into the Deep Roads, before them. "We've got a job to do, and I'm expecting trouble. I know Father held off talking about it for this long in the hope of preventing my brothers from trying anything -- or anyone else, for that matter -- but he forgets the servants, sometimes."

"So, how do you want to do this?" Gorim asked, staring down the eastern tunnel, after Trian's men.

"We go; we get the shield; we come back. And if anyone gets in our way, we slit their throats." Sereda smiled grimly. "Let's go do this."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sereda takes her team into Aeducan Thaig, to reclaim the Paragon's shield, a feat more difficult than it sounds.

The sounds of fighting faded away, as Sereda led her small team deeper into the supposedly already-cleared passages. There would be few darkspawn and no other dwarves, if all had gone according to plan. The first scout, she didn't know, but the second was Frandlin Ivo, who she rather liked, and she felt relatively certain it would be quite difficult to take out all four of them. Gorim, if no one else, had the courage and skill to make up for any deficiencies.

A few darkspawn still lingered near the broken gate of Aeducan Thaig, separated from the body of the horde by whatever forces had carved their way in here, last, but even those were not enough to stand against them. The slavering beasts fell easily under the force of three warriors and an archer, and Sereda could feel change come over her as they fell. She was no longer just the second child of the King, but a blooded warrior in her own right. One who fought not just for glory, but for the strength and defence of Orzammar. This was a path few kings had tread without an army at their backs.

She shook off the thought, knowing the army had come through ahead, to ensure it was safe to send her so lightly guarded. As she sheathed her sword, Gorim spoke.

"You know, if Trian were really scheming against us, this would be the perfect place for an ambush. We'll have the shield, and we're all alone out here." Gorim glanced around, checking for places that ambush might be laid.

Sereda laughed, easily, the sound echoing back from the walls. "I'm ready for anything. Honestly, Gorim, what's the worst they're going to do down here. I'd be more worried about the darkspawn."

"I wish I had your confidence," Gorim sighed, shaking his head. "This whole thing feels like a set-up."

"Father would never let Trian pull a stunt like this. Not unless he was planning to have Trian removed from the succession on irrefutable charges of assaulting another member of the royal family with murderous intent." Sereda landed a few solid, reassuring pats on Gorim's back. "But, that's not happening, because no one but Father and Lord Harrowmont know we're out here, away from the rest of the fighting."

"Just doesn't feel right," Gorim insisted, as they went on, listening to the deepening silence around them.

For a time, only their own footsteps could be heard in the ancient halls. The shouting and fighting far enough back that not even the echoes of steel on steel could penetrate the stone to this place. It seemed almost sacred, somehow, walking the roads of the Ancestors, witnessing the stone unseen by dwarven eyes for centuries. Once, not so long past, the darkspawn horde had pressed against the gates of Orzammar itself, but now they retreated.

"Shit," Frandlin breathed, holding out an arm, as they came down another road, to find an open door waiting for them, with corpses in front of it. "Darkspawn."

"Dead darkspawn," the other scout replied, carefully stepping closer and crouching down to get a better look.

Gorim studied the walls and peered deeper into the tunnels. "Looks like someone beat us to the door."

The scout looked up from the corpse he was prodding with his dagger. "This darkspawn body is still fresh. Whoever opened the door is most likely still in there."

"Whoever it is, they had to have an Aeducan signet ring to get in," Sereda reminded them, adjusting her belts and drawing her sword

Frandlin shrugged sympathetically, eyes still lingering on the open door. "It could've been stolen, recently or generations back."

"Or it could be an ambitious cousin out for his own glory," the scout pointed out, wiping the dagger on the thickest leather of his armour before swapping it for his bow, as he stood.

"Or it could be Trian, himself, if he's got half the stomach he pretends to." Sereda smiled grimly and gestured to the door. "We'll see soon enough."

Gorim put a hand on her shoulder and shook his head, stepping in front of her as they moved toward the door and the ancient chamber that lay beyond. "You don't go first. I go first. That's why I'm here."

"Glory-hound," Sereda teased, letting him take the lead. She knew he was right. As her second, he had to be first into unknown situations.

A few rooms in, none of them the room they were looking for, Sereda began to grow uneasy. This really was the perfect place for an ambush. The wide open plazas between terraces lined with statues and inset doors left a lot of places for hiding, few of them also suitable for walking. No, to walk, one had to cross those open spaces.

And as that thought sank in, a voice rang out from before her team. "So glad you could join us. We feared you'd gotten eaten by darkspawn."

One heavily armoured man swaggered down from where he'd been waiting, and two more appeared from the back of the room, moving to block the door Sereda's team had come through.

The leader spoke again, moving closer, but not into sword's reach. "Turns out that shield is more difficult to find than I'd been led to believe. But, I'm willing to wager you know where it is. So, maybe you tell me where it is, and I don't mutilate your body so badly your father won't recognise your corpse. While you're still alive, of course."

Sereda eyed the man, and then glanced over her shoulder to give a signal to the scout, still holding his bow. "Who the fuck is this joker?" she asked, loudly, gesturing at the man before her.

"I'm your better, that's who. And you'll come to know that." The man drew himself up taller, swaggering back and forth before the group he clearly regarded as no threat. "Now, where's the shield?"

"I'll make you a deal," Sereda offered, spreading her hands like a merchant showing her wares. "You tell me how you got in, then I'll tell you how to get the shield."

"Bite for a bite, eh? Both of us banking on killing the other and losing nothing in the telling?" The man stopped pacing and smiled wickedly, sizing Sereda up. "Very well. A man of Prince Trian's brought me this ring. It opened the door just fine. Now, where's the shield?"

"You're working for my brother?" Sereda asked, making the effort to look surprised while trying to ascertain whether this was the ambush Gorim had been expecting.

"No, I just pay well for what I want. And the rest I carve out on my own." The man stepped forward, threateningly. "Now, where's the shield?"

Sereda turned to address Frandlin, moving her shoulder out of the scout's way. "He's certainly got a way of doing business," she said, raising a hand to gesture at the man before them, once again. This time, there was a clatter of motion as several things happened at once.

The scout raised his bow, and Gorim and Frandlin moved behind him, to cut off the two guards behind them, who had just realised what was happening. Their leader, though, was slower to catch it, as his eyes lingered on Sereda, who'd turned back to him and started to speak again.

"The shield is in all of us," Sereda declared, as the scout loosed an arrow that took the leader in the neck. "Pity it's not enough to protect you."

Sword in hand, she turned to join Gorim and Frandlin as they turned the rest of the mercenaries into mince.

* * *

"Shield's still here, somewhere," Sereda said, wiping her sword on the mercenary captain's trousers, before she sheathed it. "And so is Trian's..." She rolled the body and searched the pockets. "Ring! Ah, here!" Holding it up, she smiled brightly, and then tucked it into her own pocket. "I'm going to love watching him explain this, later."

"I thought you didn't want to be king," Gorim reminded her.

"I don't." The smile shifted to a grimace, as Sereda studied the room, her father's instructions in mind. "But, if Trian can't protect his own signet, maybe he shouldn't be, either. If he's king, that means anyone is king who can get their hands on that ring. I'm not sure I want to live in an Orzammar that's controlled by Beraht's decrees."

"Oh, that'd be fucked up," the scout remarked, still watching for the motion of anything larger than a deepstalker.

"Yeah, okay," Gorim admitted, shrugging as he followed Sereda toward another room. "He definitely needs to get a handle on that, before he takes the throne."

"There's always Bhelen," Frandlin suggested, eyes lingering on statues of Ancestors he couldn't name.

"Bhelen's a good kid!" Sereda was quick to say it. "I think that sense of humour's going to get him into trouble with the assembly, though. Nobody likes a laugh at their own expense, and however right and funny Bhelen is, it's always at someone's expense, and usually someone with the power to very quickly do him an enormous amount of harm."

"Like Trian." Gorim chuckled, shaking his head.

"Ancestors, I thought Trian was going to punch his head right off, when we ran into them before the feast." Sereda laughed. "That is exactly what I'm talking about."

"Is this it?" Frandlin asked, pointing to the enormous stone sarcophagus in the middle of the room. "This is the closest I've ever been to a Paragon that wasn't Branka, may her spirit return to the Stone."

"Give me a hand?" Sereda asked, taking hold of one corner of the lid.

But, even with four of them, it wouldn't move.

"Oh, come on, you nug-fucker!" Sereda kicked the base of the sarcophagus and pushed harder.

"Is it locked?" Frandlin asked, crouching down to look at where the lid met the base, crab-walking his way around the sarcophagus, looking for some sign of what held it closed.

"Never let it be said that I jumped on somebody's ancestors, but forgive me, I'm going to jump on your ancestor." The scout gestured for the group to step aside so he could take a running jump onto the lid. "I can't quite make out the carvings, otherwise."

"You think it's got instructions on it?" Gorim asked, squinting at the writing around the base, which seemed to be the usual 'great and powerful' and 'may the Stone accept the spirit' stuff that went on the tombs of Paragons.

"Well, nobody's going to want to jump on somebody's ancestors, so if it's got instructions, they'll be up here." The scout offered a lopsided smile and studied the engravings he was standing on. "Seems to be based on the layout of the room, except it's got more stuff in it."

"Stuff's probably been stolen," Gorim sighed, wiping his hand on his thigh before using it to wipe the sweat off his face.

"It looks like maybe if we stand in certain places, we'll be able to find the instructions? There's four dwarves here, and they're pointing." The scout shrugged and turned around, still looking at the lid under his feet.

"I hate puzzles," Sereda muttered. "I just want you to know I really, really hate puzzles."

"Well, you're never going to be a Paragon with an attitude like that," Frandlin teased, and Sereda couldn't help but laugh.

"If I'm going to be a Paragon, it'll be for something simple, like destroying a dozen nests of broodmothers."

The three on the ground followed the scout's pointing, until they were arranged about like he thought the figures in the engraving were. Finally, he hopped down and knelt before the sarcophagus, like the fourth figure.

"Oh!" the scout's eyes widened. "It's right here! Come use the ring again!"

But, as Sereda stepped toward the scout, the stone slid closed again, concealing the lock.

"On my ancestors' bones, are you kidding me?" the scout sighed, standing to move out of Sereda's way. "Okay, just sit here and wait a bit, while I go back to where you were."

"What am I supposed to do with the ring?" Sereda asked, running her hands over the engraving.

"Hold onto it. It'll be obvious as soon as I get back over there."

As soon as the stone slid away, Sereda plunged Trian's signet into it, just not to have to take off her own again. After a bit of jiggling, it settled and turned, and the lid of the sarcophagus slid toward the other side.

Gorim moved first, carefully stepping toward the sarcophagus, watching to be sure it wouldn't close again. "I'll be... That's why it wouldn't lift. Look at those rails."

"I'm more interested in the--" Sereda stood up and looked into the ancient vault. "--shield," she breathed, picking it up from where it lay across the bones of a dwarf centuries dead. "It's real."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One brother dead, the other leading a betrayal of monumental proportions.

They made their way back to the crossroads, expecting to meet with the returning troops. The tunnels echoed their footsteps, quietly, until they reached the great road that stretched back to Orzammar, where it was eerily quiet, without the sound of darkspawn or battle.

"Here, let me see it?" The scout leaned toward Sereda and she held out the arm bearing the shield. "Doesn't look like much, does it?"

"The skill of our crafters has come far, since then," Frandlin reminded him. "It's been almost a thousand years. Still... the Shield of Aeducan. You know he followed the first archdemon almost to the surface? And carrying that, they say."

"It's a symbol of the Paragon's strength, and the strength of our house," Sereda said, a twinge of excitement in her smile.

"Hey, whatever helps rally the troops, right?" The scout shrugged and grinned.

Gorim shook his head, bringing up the rear. "It's been in the same place for a thousand years. Nine Aeducans have sat on the throne of Orzammar, and none of them brought it back. It's proof we have the Ancestors' favour."

"Like we need more proof?" Frandlin laughed. "She kicked my ass in the Provings, yesterday. She kicked everyone's ass."

"Damn right I did." Sereda grinned. "Glory for me. Glory for my house. And next on the list, glory for Orzammar."

The scout's eyes lit on something and he pointed. "Isn't that your brother's armour?"

Gorim caught Sereda's arm and jogged past her, to the body, kneeling to examine it. "By the Stone, he's right. It's Trian!"

"Did the darkspawn get him?" Sereda asked, drawing her sword and turning around to examine the roads leading out from where they stood.

The scout shook his head. "This doesn't look like darkspawn. No bites, no scratches, no mutilation..."

"Well, now we know where they got the ring," Frandlin sighed.

"No, we'd have passed him on the way in." Gorim shook his head. "Whoever did this was behind us."

"We have to get my father; he'll know what to do," Sereda decided, sword still in her hand as she continued to scan the crossroads for Trian's attacker.

"Someone's coming!" Gorim announced, pointing toward one of the roads, and he backed away, taking Frandlin and the scout with him, as they prepared for combat.

Only Sereda remained at her brother's side, determined to guard the corpse.

"Hurry, Father!" Bhelen's voice echoed up the passage. "Before it's too--"

"Father! Come quickly! It's Trian!" Sereda shouted as they stepped into the light of the crossroads.

Endrin shouldered his way past Bhelen, eyes on where his daughter stood over his first son, sword raised to strike the next thing that came out of the darkness. Sereda stepped back and lowered her sword as Endrin climbed up beside her and knelt at Trian's side.

"By all the Ancestors, what has happened here?" Endrin demanded, face still firm despite the grief shining in his eyes.

"It seems we weren't fast enough. Bhelen was right," Lord Ivo cut in, separating himself from the crowd following the king.

"My child," Endrin said, looking up at Sereda, "tell me this isn't what it looks like."

"Someone's killed Trian," Sereda declared, eyeing Bhelen with no little suspicion.

"By which you mean you," Bhelen shot back, folding his arms and giving their father a meaningful look.

"Look," Sereda protested, offering Trian's ring to Endrin. "I have his signet. I took it off a -- probably a Carta lieutenant who'd used it to get into Aeducan Thaig. He said Trian gave it to him, but I come back here to find my brother dead? 'Gave' might not be the word I'd use."

"Yeah, and given that he threatened to cut her up so bad you wouldn't recognise her..." Gorim shrugged dramatically, knowing it couldn't have been the thugs waiting in the thaig, but not wanting to level the obvious accusation -- that Bhelen had done it himself. "I'm thinking they're the obvious choice, here."

"Ser Gorim, your loyalty makes you a useless witness. It falls to others to tell the story." Lord Harrowmont sounded apologetic, at least. "You, scout, what happened here?"

"Trian and his men were here early. It seems they'd done battle with the darkspawn," the scout explained, and Sereda started to relax. It wasn't the same story, but she'd leave it to her father's men to determine if it was darkspawn or the Carta. But, then, the scout went on. "Lady Aeducan came up to them all friendly-like, but when we got close, she ordered us to attack!"

"What!?" Sereda drew up her shoulders. "What are you-- Frandlin! Tell them what happened!"

"Frandlin Ivo, you are a good and noble man," Lord Harrowmont agreed, stepping forward to address the man. "Did the scout speak the truth?"

"He... he did, my lord." Frandlin had the decency to look ashamed, as he side-eyed Sereda. "It was terrible. Prince Trian didn't stand a chance."

"You treacherous bastard!" Gorim roared, turning suddenly on Frandlin.

"Silence, Gorim," King Endrin warned, rising to his feet, and stepping toward Sereda. "Do you have anything else to say, my child?"

"I didn't do this, Father. It wouldn't serve any purpose." Sereda refrained from blaming Bhelen. Now was not the time, and her father wouldn't want to hear it any more than he wanted to think it was her. The Carta was the simpler place to lay blame, and with their attackers already dead, there was no one to say they hadn't also been responsible for Trian. Once she was cleared, she would deal with Bhelen, quietly.

"I want to believe you. I really do." Endrin looked sad, but serious.

"Bind her," Lord Harrowmont ordered. "She will be judged before the Assembly."

"Father!" Sereda protested.

"Enough! I will not see my child dragged back to Orzammar in chains." Endrin held up his hands. "Give me your weapons, Sereda, and promise you will go peacefully. The Ancestors will see justice done."

The guards looked to Lord Harrowmont for his word, as Sereda put her sword and both her shield and Paragon Aeducan's shield in her father's hands.

"They will, Father. I trust in that." She smiled bravely, as the guards led her back to Orzammar, Gorim bound between two others, behind her.

* * *

Sereda couldn't be sure how much time had passed, without the bustle of the palace and the streets of Orzammar, but it felt like she'd been in that cell forever, by the time she saw Gorim standing by the bars.

"Gorim! Thank the Ancestors!" Sereda smiled and leapt up, relief in her chest as she clutched at the bars. "When are they letting me out of here? Do you know?"

"I've got some bad news." Gorim sighed. "The Assembly's decided not to call you. Bhelen's taken Trian's place in the Assembly. He introduced a motion to condemn you, immediately, and it passed easily. He had fully half the Assembly ready to vote on something completely against tradition and justice. He must've been working on this for months, if not years."

"Given that he bought the word of one of the best warriors of our generation, I'd have to agree." Sereda rested her head on the bars, as everything started to spin. "I sorely underestimated that little nugfucker, but this is the last time."

"I didn't see it either," Gorim admitted, shaking his head. "Some of the lords, especially Harrowmont, are suspicious -- a move like this flies in the face of generations of tradition and buying the word of witnesses is an insult to the Ancestors. But, I don't know if they'll be able to pull together a defence quickly enough. Or, more to the point, I know they haven't."

"What--?" Sereda looked up, staring into the defeat in Gorim's eyes.

"The Assembly has already sentenced both of us." Gorim looked away. "I've been exiled to the surface. No name, no rank, just me. Don't worry about me; I'll get by. Harrowmont tried to get you sent with me -- he really did try, but..."

"No..." The word hung between them, for a beat.

"Your brother moved to have you sealed in the Deep Roads." Gorim sighed, gripping the bars with one hand. "Follow the Legion, Sereda. If you can find them, they can lead you to the surface."

"I'm sorry, Gorim. I'm not going to the surface." Sereda's grimace turned to a toothy threat. "I'm coming back. I'll haunt the gates of Orzammar until Bhelen is struck down and my father names an heir from another house. If this is what we've come to, then it's time for the line of Paragon Aeducan to come to an end. There will be no more Aeducan kings." She sighed. "If I go to the surface, now, I'll lose what little advantage I have. You know what they say -- the sky strikes away the Stone, and I can't afford to lose the Stone's blessings. Neither can you, but you don't have much choice."

"I'll go to one of the human cities. Humans always need mercenaries, right?" Gorim tried to force a smile.

"When it's over, I'll find you. We'll ... I don't know. What do people do on the surface?" Sereda's laugh was stiff and slow. What _did_ people do on the surface? Was there any life for her up there?

Footsteps approached, echoing through the stone halls leading to the cells. "Sereda, I'm serious. Find the Legion. They were headed toward Paragon Heidrun's mines, and the path behind them is going to be a lot less dangerous than any other. They're the only way you're going to survive out there."

Sereda nodded. "I'll do it. Don't worry, Gorim, I'm not nearly done. I've got the Ancestors' blessings, remember?" She squeezed his hand where it rested on the bars. "You've always been a good friend, and I've never had a reason to doubt you. So, don't you doubt me, now."

"I'd give up everything I have left, to go down this path with you." Gorim hung his head, and then shot a glance toward the door. "Our time is up. May the Paragons guide your sword and the Stone hold you up. I will always be your man, Lady Aeducan."

"You'd better not die before I find you, Gorim!" Sereda called after him, as he headed out back into the company of Harrowmont's guard.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Banished from Orzammar, Sereda sets off after the Legion of the Dead.

The huge doors closed behind her, and Sereda found herself alone with nothing but a sword and shield. They weren't even her sword and shield, she reflected, shifting her grip and checking the balance. These were garbage made by young smiths who were still learning -- the sorts of things that were used as examples of why you don't craft a weapon like that. Lord Harrowmont had seemed regretful that he'd failed to do anything to help her, but he'd slipped her signet ring onto her finger as he gave her that garbage shield. She understood -- he'd meant for her to be able to hide in the old Aeducan Thaig, avoiding most of the darkspawn threat. But, hiding wouldn't find the Legion of the Dead, and if she was going to survive out here, she needed not to be alone. In time, Bhelen would bring his own troops out, and she would be waiting.

The first problem, of course, was staying fed. Outside the gates, there was no guarantee that anything a person tried to eat wouldn't be tainted. Mushrooms were a dangerous game, down here, between the Blight and the lyrium, but so was anything else. Nugs would probably be all right, if she could find any. Not that she had anything proper for nug hunting. Killing them with a sword seemed a bit over the top, even if it was a profoundly shitty sword. But, the Legion would know what was safe to eat, and that made it twice as important to catch up with them quickly.

Sereda set off past the crossroads, heading out from under the mountains, toward ancient and forgotten thaigs. As she passed the turn that led to Aeducan Thaig, she muttered thanks to the Ancestors for the blessing she expected would be the only way she survived this. She thought of the mines the Legion had come to clear the path to -- she had no idea where those might be, but she remembered the direction Trian's team had taken, her father's orders to her older brother still ringing in her ears. Maybe there would be miners, in this direction -- and if there were, there would be food and light, even before she caught up with the Legion.

She pushed onward, glad the Legion had mostly cleared the path before her, and trying not to eat anything that didn't bleed red. Parts of these passages really were the Deep Roads, proper, and not darkspawn tunnels, and the orange light and smooth walls showed the way. In a few places, the darkspawn had clearly broken into the main road, which... she hadn't really thought about, before, having assumed they'd travelled the Deep Roads, specifically -- that they'd risen up out of the pits, somewhere, maybe in some old mining thaig -- there were weird stories about what happened if you dug too deep -- and just travelled on the roads, like everyone else. But, these tunnels were clearly dug by another hand, and the marks and carelessness didn't look like anything the miners would've dared, and certainly not _here_.

Somewhere along the road, the walls began to change, like they did coming up to Orzammar. There was another thaig, here. Probably dead and empty, but if it was the mining thaig the Legion had been trying to recover... But, then, she'd passed so many turns on the way here, and any one of them could have led to the Legion. She'd chosen to go mostly straight, as long as the road stayed quiet. Quiet was a sign the Legion had passed, most likely, but then, like her father and Lord Harrowmont had said, the darkspawn had finally begun to thin. It was the only reason they could venture the expedition to Aeducan Thaig. And she was still angry about that. She'd had that shield in her hands, however much use it didn't look to be, and it was better than this one. She'd rescued the ancestral shield of the royal house of Orzammar, and still she was exiled to the Deep Roads -- and without it. And without her name, too, though she still held the signet. That would mean more than anything if she came back. That was the last record of her existence.

As she crossed the thaig toward a bridge, rocks skittered across her path and dinged off her shoulder, as a shout rang out, off to her side.

"There's nothing for you here! It's mine! I've claimed it!"

"Hello?" Sereda raised her shield to block the rocks and moved a bit closer to the thrower. "Is someone here? I need help!"

"You've come to take my claim! You city-folk are all alike: stone-blinded blunder-foots! Well, I found it first!"

"What? No! I'm not staying, at all! I'm looking for the Legion of the Dead. Have they passed this way?" Sereda asked, peering cautiously over the top of her shield as the rocks stopped. It was best, she thought, to appease this person until she could make out what she was up against. There was no use in starting a fight she wasn't sure she could win. Certainly not now, after she'd come so far.

"Many dead down here..." The voice paused, thoughtfully. "All dead, fall down dead. But, not me!"

Whoever this was, they sounded mad as an old miner, and maybe for the same reasons. "But, have you seen the Legion? Maybe five or ten dwarves, all with branded faces and good swords?"

"You-you won't take anything from Ruck? You won't take his shiny worms? Or pretty rocks?"

"Ruck? Is that your name?" Sereda asked, wondering if she was getting through at all. "I'm not here to steal anything. I just need to find the Legion, and maybe some clean water."

"Yes, Ruck's my name. I do not hear it much, so sometimes I like to speak it out loud. Ruck! Ruck! Ruck!"

"Well, Ruck, I'd be happy to say it a few more times, for you. What do you think of that, Ruck?"

A beardless dwarf crept out of the space between stones. "It's much prettier when the pretty lady says it. Pretty lady can get water from the river," Ruck answered, shyly, slowly and cautiously approaching.

"You've got no beard!" The words slipped out as Sereda stared in amazement. "Is that the style in this thaig?"

"Thaig, thaig, no thaig any more. Dark ones come long ago." Ruck shook his head. "All mine now. I drink up their blood, and they can't see me. Can't have a beard now. Don't need a beard now."

"You drank the darkspawn blood, so they can't see you?" Sereda's brow crinkled inward. "Does that work?"

"Burns when it goes down. It burns!" Ruck paused, studying Sereda intently as he finally got close enough to be clear. "But, works. Dark ones do not bother Ruck." He pointed at her sword. "That's not a good sword."

Sereda sighed. "I know. But, it's the only sword they'd let me have, when I left, Ruck."

Ruck looked curious. "Miners don't need swords."

"Are you a miner, Ruck?"

"No! They wanted to send Ruck to the mines, but I ran away! Here, I live free. I... collect my rocks and worms and shinies. At least... at least I am free." Ruck nodded to himself, eyes still on the sword. "Ruck used to be a Smith. Ruck knows swords. Swords and shields and axes."

"Could you make me a better sword, Ruck?" There wasn't much chance, but maybe... if she didn't find the Legion, here, maybe she could at least get Ruck to outfit her properly.

"No forge, no forge." Ruck shook his head and gestured around them, indicating the abandoned thaig. "Pretty lady not steal from Ruck?" He squinted at Sereda pensively.

"No stealing. Promise." Sereda put up her hand as the Assembly members did, swearing a vow.

Ruck's eyes rounded, and he tugged her hand down. "No, no! Ruck does not want to remember the light and the warm!"

"You're trying to forget Orzammar, Ruck?" Sereda sighed. "Ancestors, I wish I could do that, but I made a promise."

"Ruck made a promise to stay away. Must forget all about the place with the lights and the people." He shook his head, sadly and squeezed his eyes closed. "Pretty lady promised to go back? Not sent to the mines?"

"My name's Sereda," Sereda finally told him. "And they didn't send me to the mines, because they sent me to the darkspawn, instead."

"You need a sword for the dark ones," Ruck suddenly realised. "Come, come! Ruck has many swords! Big battles, many swords and boots and shields! Ruck give good sword to friend Sereda."

As she followed Ruck deeper into the thaig, toward a glimmer of light hidden between the edges of things, Sereda realised he'd been talking about Trian's push against the darkspawn, with the Legion. Those swords were probably from Trian's fallen men -- there hadn't been many, but even one of their swords would be enough. That or it was all taken from the darkspawn, but the way Ruck, a _smith_ , promised a 'good' sword, she had a feeling about it.

Sereda looked over the walls of Ruck's sanctuary, as he dug through a large number of swords stuffed in a large stone urn. Shields and shards of ancient engravings hung from spikes jammed in the crevices in the stone. And one of them was a Legion shield. "Where did you find this one, Ruck?"

"Over the bridge. They come to fight the dark ones. Ruck stays out of the way. Can't go back. Won't go back." Ruck finally decided on a sword, weighing it in his hand and giving a few swings, before he handed it to Sereda. "Good sword. Ruck knows swords. Feel the difference."

Sereda accepted it, and the difference was immediately clear. This was a sword crafted with a warrior in mind, and she examined it for a maker's mark. To her surprise, it probably hadn't been made for anyone on Trian's last expedition -- that was a House Branka mark. For all that they were a noble house, before they disappeared, it was still a house founded by a smith and consisting largely of her smith husband's family. "This is a _really_ good sword, Ruck! Thank you!"

Ruck beamed, and Sereda wondered what to do, next. The Legion had been here, and recently. She could probably catch them, if she pushed on, but she hadn't had much in the way of food or sleep, since she left Orzammar. Ruck seemed fairly harmless, and he'd obviously killed a few darkspawn if he was drinking their blood.

"Do you know if there's anything to eat here, besides the darkspawn, Ruck?" Sereda asked, sheathing her new sword and offering the old one to Ruck.

Ruck took the junk sword and tossed it into the urn with the others. "Mushrooms. Mushrooms are not blue like the stone, here. Just clean regular mushrooms."

"If you give me a pot, Ruck, I can get water, and you can get mushrooms, and then we could have a mushroom soup," Sereda suggested. She'd eaten mushrooms often enough, even as a member of the royal family. They didn't taste like much, but they'd be better than not eating anything. "We can cook it right here on the fire."

"Roast them first, then soup," Ruck said, nodding. "Friend Sereda will stay for soup?"

"Ruck, your friend, Sereda, would love some soup."


End file.
